The Artistic Approach
by xtremekiiwii
Summary: Kurapika is the best student in Leorio’s art class. And the teacher couldn’t help but feel some sort of attraction to him… LeoPika
1. Chapter One

_**The Artistic Approach**_

**Summary;** _Kurapika is the best student in Leorio's art class. And the teacher couldn't help but feel some sort of attraction to him… LeoPika_

**Disclaimer;**_ Everything is of the creation of Yoshihiro Togashi-sama. Everything but the plot of course._

**Notes;**_ I had this idea while coming home from my friend's house. Spent an all-nighter there doing absolutely nothing. XD I should've typed this up at her house, but she has a Spanish keyboard that got me really confused. I don't really think that the title goes with the story, but it's the first thing that popped in my head and I liked it. Lol. Anyways, here's a full-blown that I hope to finish. Hope you enjoy! :)_

_-XK_

_P.S.; I stole the last name "Quinn" for Leorio from someone. I forgot who it was, but if you're reading this, I hope you don't mind._

- - -

**Chapter One: **_Class Begins_

Leorio Quinn shuffled the empty canvas and art utensils under his arm while he held a pen in his mouth and dug in his pocket for the keys to his art room.

The late bell had already rung, chiming for the last minute students to hurry the hell up and get to their classes before their teachers noticed. Leorio's students were lined up against the wall of his room, just like he ordered every morning he was a tad bit late.

But what had caught his eye every time was the beautiful blond that always made it in the front of the line. His name was Kurapika Kuruta, a third year student and the best art student this teacher has ever seen. He could sketch a scene so well, that'd it'd look like a photograph. He could paint so well, some believed his artistic talent surpassed many famous painters such as Vincent Van Gogh and Pablo Picasso. Somehow, that blond always ended up first in line whenever Leorio was running short on time.

Leorio struggled to get his key into the lock and hold all the canvas and paints and paint brushes under his arm.

"Hurry up, Old Man!" yelled someone from the near back. It was probably non-other than Killua Zoldyck, one of Leorio's least pleasant students. He was a first year student. True the boy had talent (though barely adding up to Kurapika), but his manners were as sour as a lemon.

A laugh followed his comment and without looking, Leorio knew right off the top of his head that it was Killua's right hand man, Gon Freecss, who was also a first year student. He didn't have a lot of talent for the arts, though he could splatter a canvas so well it would look like one, but he was great to have around. He always cheered people up with his happy-go-lucky attitude and always found the best in people, no matter how bad.

Still, the young arts teacher wrestled with his keys, the lock, and the supplies until a soft, sweet alto voice asked, "Would you like some help, Mr. Quinn?"

Leorio looked at the owner of the voice and his heart beat faltered a bit.

Kurapika cocked his head to the side a little, the reached out to catch the falling supplied from under Leorio's arm. He grabbed the canvas first under one arm, then the paints and brushes in his other arm.

"T-thank you," Leorio stuttered and finally got the key in the lock. He opened the door and allowed the blond artist to enter first.

The rest of the class filed in, gathered at their desk, and chattered quietly until Leorio got everything together and was ready to start class.

The room was huge for an art room. There was multiple desks squeezed together to create groups that only took up half the room. The other half was filled with easels and ceramics wheels for other arts. And there was a small garden just outside and Lerio always left the doors open when the wind was calm.

Leorio had allowed the students to sit with whom ever they liked and didn't really care how rowdy it got. He wasn't all for peace and quiet all the time. As long at the teens got their pieces finished, it was all good. He believed socializing can also help with inspiration for their art.

Also, the art building, like the band building, was separated from the school so that the main classes don't get interrupted by the rowdiness of the art room or the playing by the band room. The administration didn't mind.

Kurapika followed the teacher to the back of the room, waiting for instructions. Leorio cleared off some cabinets and shelves, then stuffed some used canvas and big jugs of paint in the storage closet before turning to Kurapika.

"Here, I'll take these," he said and took the brushes and paints from Kurapika's arm. "You can put those canvases against the wall over there."

The blond laid the canvas against the desired wall and after Leorio thanked him again, went to take his own seat at a desk.

The desk he sat at, Leorio noticed, wasn't filled with a lot of kids—just three others who sat on the other end of the table, leaving the blond completely alone. Those tables could fit at least eight to nine people per. He guessed the boy wasn't all that popular. Proof that looks don't always get you everywhere. Kurapika was gorgeous.

Leorio shook that thought from his head. Kurapika was his student and he was the superior. He could not be even _thinking _like that. It could probably get him fired. He busied himself for a bit longer to tidy up the back of the room and walked to the front to tell everyone their assignments for the day.

"Good morning, class," he called and smiled when the class looked at him and cheered, "Good morning, Mr. Quinn!" You could especially hear Gon's ecstatic cry from where he sat over everyone else's. Killua's on the other hand, was low, but Leorio suspected the boy called him "Old Man" again. They were never on good terms.

He explained that it was a free day today. The students had choices to either draw in their sketch books, paint on the canvas set up on the easels in the back, or mold clay on the wheels.

Leorio sat down in his chair. Free days meant no one could beg him and he could do whatever he pleased. Taking a sip from the Styrofoam coffee cup of caffeine he just heated up, he examined the room. A lot of the kids went to the easels to paint, few stayed to sketch and the rest went to the wheels. Among the ones playing at the wheels, was Gon and Killua. Dressed in their aprons, they were trying to mold a pot (or at least that's what it looked like) without getting each other dirty. And they were doing horribly at the "not getting each other dirty" part.

Leorio's favorite student sat in his table, concentrated deeply in a drawing that he was sketching slowly and perfectly. Leorio just wanted to go over there and take a small peak. He adjusted his un-needed sunglasses on his nose and tapped his own pencil on his own sketch book.

Bored, he started to sketch something that came to mind. But half-way though the picture, he threw the book on his desk and decided to clean out his storage room a bit. So, going back there, he grabbed some works that were totally misfiled by period and brought them out and purposely set them on Kurapika's table.

The blond boy looked up.

"Hope you don't mind me setting this here. I need to file some papers," Leorio said. "Would like to give me a hand?"

Leorio looked at Kurapika's sketch book to see what he was drawing and saw a young boy that was held by chains. The chains were only halfway done and the other half was just lines to plan out. The boys head held no face and his body was turned to the side, his hands hanging above him tied in the chains. It was a full body picture, but the boy's feet all the way up to half way to his knees was covered in a thick pile of cold chains.

The teacher looked amazed at the drawing. It was beautiful. The chains were so detailed. But before he could examine it more, Kurapika shut it book gentle.

"Sure," he said and went to Leorio's side.

Leorio split the pile with him and they sorted out the works of art by the periods. While the teacher just wanted to get it over with, did it quickly and messily without a care. But his student did is gently to not ruin the pictures. Though Leorio did slow down every time he was lucky enough to land on one of Kurapika's drawing.

This one, he was over-viewing, was one of a self-portrait they had done in the beginning of the year with an animal. Kurapika had chosen a puppy. He was wearing some kind of tunic and was lifting a dog up in the air. He had made his own eyes closed and rubbing noses with the dog. They both looked happy.

Secretly, Leorio wished to be that dog. He shook his head and hit the butt of his hand against his forehead. Stupid! Stop thinking like that!

Kurapika looked at him a bit funny, but returned to working.

After that, he helped the teacher file them and the bell rang. Next, Kurapika had to go to the most dreaded of all classes. Geometry. Gently stuffing the file into the cabinet behind Leorio's desk, he grabbed his stuff from his desk and headed out the door, passing by the art teacher's desk on the way out.

He couldn't help but notice that there was a sketch book open on the desk with a half finished picture of him on it.

- - -

_Final Word Count; 1,517_

_Well, not exactly the 2,000 words I was hoping for, but I got kind of close. And I thought that would be the perfect place to end. Do you think it's going a bit fast for a first chapter, 'cause I kind of do. Bleh. I kind of hope this story will go easy on me, especially because it's about art and that's my passion besides writing. Doesn't combining it make it even more fun? Any one recognize the pictures I had attempted to describe? The first one, the one in Kurapika's sketch book, is from the anime from when he was training with Nen in the forest, and the other with the dog was a fan art I found on Photobucket, except the dog has glasses like Leorio and a tie. Woof! It's so cute. Well, please drop off any ideas, comments, or flames in the Review box. Clicky, below. XD Thanks for reading. Please review. Love you!_

_-XK_


	2. Chapter Two

_**The Artistic Approach**_

**Summary;**_Kurapika is the best student in Leorio's art class. And the teacher couldn't help but feel some sort of attraction to him… LeoPika_

**Disclaimer;**_ Everything is of the creation of Yoshihiro Togashi-sama. Everything but the plot of course._

**Notes;** _Ah… Isn't the smell of a new chapter to a great story just refreshing? Lol. Kind of a crappy chapter. I had to put something down. I still think its going a bit fast. :PI kept getting ideas for other parts of the story, it was really hard to make this chapter. Well, please read and enjoy!_

_-XK_

_P.S.; I stole "Quinn" again. :)_

- - -

**Chapter Two: **_Class Dismissed; Lunch Time!_

Leorio took the files of art back into the storage room while the students left the room to be replaced with his third period class. He left the storage room and went back to his desk while ordering them to a free day. Sitting in the office chair the school had provided for him, he turned to his sketch book and just now realized he had left the thing open.

His eyes widened in shock. So now he just hoped Kurapika hadn't seen what was drawn inside. Or anyone else for that matter.

- - -

Kurapika looked from his notebook, up to the board, and back to his notebook over and over again as his pencil flew across the note pages, trying to write all that was written on the board and what was being said by his mathematics teacher. Damn, did he hate Geometry. His teacher expected them to remember everything taught, even though nearly half of them didn't understand a word and could barely remember what was taught the last class.

It was times like these that Kurapika longed to be in his art class again, even if he did just have it last period, with Mr. Quinn, where everyone did what they wanted at their own pace. Where he could draw in his sketch book without getting yelled at. Where he couldn't get yelled at for being late cause his teacher was late himself.

Unlike his maths class, where his math teacher was always there and never absent and would give detention to anyone who was late—today, that being Kurapika. He was so caught up on _why _his art teacher would be sketching him in the book he didn't realize he was late until a teacher caught him wandering the nearly empty halls. That teacher only gave him a warning, but some other teachers like, oh lets say, his math teacher were extremely strict and wouldn't fail to notice someone was late.

The only thing good about this math class is that he was lucky enough to get the lunch period so he was able to get out of the Hell Hole of Numbers for at least forty-minutes before going back.

Today, he was going to eat his lunch outside in the front of the school where he could sit under a tree with nice shade and draw to his hearts desire.

Hearing the teacher suddenly shut up and the sound of chalk writing on the board stop, he looked up at the clock. Lunch time. Finally!

"You're all free to go," his teacher said and sat at his own desk.

Everyone ran out of the room, including Kurapika who was thanking God.

He calmly walked out of the school building and out to the front where some other students who were finished with their lunch sat and hung out. He went under a tall oak tree and plopped down, opening his bag lunch along with his sketch book. He pulled a pencil from his pocket and began to sketch to his drawing from that morning. It was going really well. The chains were the hardest part to the drawing. He had to get all the chains _perfect. _

Carefully, he ate his sandwich slowly while sketching to his drawing. The drawing was on its fourth day in the making. Kurapika had always taken a long time with his drawings, though he could always just sketch it out and it'd look fine. He always noticed the flaws and wanted it perfect so his eyes and mind would accept it.

First day was thinking of what to draw and sketching it out over and over again until he got it perfect and began working on it slowly, which took up the rest of the days. He'd gotten the body on the second and started on the hair and chains on the third. The hair was finished, but he continued on with the chains today.

He finished his sandwich and automatically wiped his face with a napkin. He then threw it in the bag to throw away in the trash bin later along with wiping his hand on his jeans. Then the rest of the time was focused on the sketch.

Thought after about ten minutes, he grew kind of bored of the chains. It was all just 2-D and all the same. He still couldn't decide a face for the boy and didn't want to get ahead in the schedule he had set up for himself in his head. Closing the book, he tapped his pencil and thought of something to do.

The seeing his art teacher walk from his car through a chain linked fence on the side of the school with a bag of some sort, probably filled with food, a memory flashed and he remembered the drawing from that morning again. He blushed slightly, then shook his head and pulled at his hair.

He had been thinking of the teacher for sometime now, but knowing he couldn't love the teacher without some sort of conflict, he never bothered to even try. He knew he would get into major trouble and Leorio would be sent to jail. Kurapika hated these rules. Rules had even put restrictions on love, which he thought was pretty stupid.

Without thinking, he got up and went over to the man, who was just entering the school.

"Hey, Mr. Quinn!" he said and smiled.

"Hey, Kurapika," the man replied also with a smile.

Thinking up a quick excuse to still be with him, Kurapika asked, "Do you mind if I use the ceramic wheel for a bit?"

"Uhm, sure," Leorio said but then asked, "Why?"

"I'm a bit bored. My class doesn't go in for another twenty minutes or so and I thought I could do something other than sit around," he explained, noticing Leorio was eying his sketch book.

"Sure, come with me. My own class is out and it is pretty boring in the teacher's lounge," Leorio laughed.

Kurapika smiled and followed the older man.

When they got into the room, Kurapika placed his sketch book on a table by the door and went to the back while Leorio sat at his desk to eat.

Kurapika got a slab of clay from a bag and sat it on the wheel. He wet his hands in the sink and at on the stool by the wheel. Leorio watched as he worked the clay to make it soft, then slowly stepped on the peddle to turn the wheel. He quickly found the center and began working, or tried to. He had moved his foot to fast and the clay splattered everywhere.

He cried in anguish at the mess he had made.

Leorio stopped eating the cheeseburger he had gotten for lunch and looked at Kurapika. Kurapika looked at him and said an apology. Leorio laughed a little at the young artist.

"Go clean up a little and I'll do out here," Leorio said and got up from his desk, leaving his half-eaten cheeseburger alone.

Kurapika nodded and left to the sinks while Leorio cleaned up. When he came back, Leorio was finished with the floor and was sculpting his own pot from Kurapika's used clay. He finished quickly. It was about seven inches high with a small curve going out then going back in at the middle. Kurapika looked at it in amazement.

"That's beautiful," he muttered.

Leorio turned around, smiled, and then asked for a batter board off the shelves. Kurapika handed him the bat and Leorio put the pot on it, and then put it on a table top to dry.

"Can you teach me?" Kurapika asked.

"Sure," Leorio said and motioned for Kurapika to take the stool while he grabbed his own with a new moist ball of clay in hand.

He threw it in the middle of the wheel.

"First, start peddling the wheel. Not too fast! Press it once every three seconds or so," Leorio instructed.

Kurapika did so and Leorio began again, "See that lump near the center? Yeah, that one. Move your thumb across it—keep spinning! Do you feel any friction? Okay, keep moving your thumb over it until there's no friction, okay?"

The blond boy nodded and began to press in the center of the smooth lump when Leorio told him to do so.

"Now stop," Leorio said as he noticed the blond was nearing the bottom of the pot, "You don't want to ruin it. Good!"

Kurapika smiled. He was doing great. It was a lot easier now that he knew what he was doing. He smiled. Leorio did so as well.

"Sculpt it however you like now," he said and continued to watch the boy, his lunch long forgotten.

He watched in amusement as Kurapika played with the clay, then gripped the bottom of the stool he sat on when he used two fingers to widen the hole of the pot.

_Bad mind! No dirty thinking! _He mentally yelled at himself.

Kurapika turned to him then smiled a beautiful smile and asked, "Am I doing it right?"

Leorio blushed a bit and nodded, "You're doing fine. I'll go grab a batter board for you."

He got up and did so. By the time he found a clean bat and went back to the blond boy, Kurapika had finished. His piece wasn't too special; just a plain cylinder shaped pot that was a little lop-sided. It was pretty good for his first time on the wheel.

"Finished?" Leorio asked, handing him the bat.

"Uh-huh," Kurapika murmured and took to board, carefully putting his pot on it and putting it next to Leorio's to dry. Then he looked at the clock.

He was late for class _again!_

"Oh no!" he cried.

"What?"

"I'm late. Oh, crap, I'm late again!" he said and ran towards the door. "Uh, see you tomorrow Mr. Quinn!"

And he was gone.

It didn't take long for Leorio to notice that the blond boy had forgotten his sketch book.

- - -

_(Final Count; 1,671 words)_

_Thank you, thank you! I had a friend help me at the end. I took ceramics last year in eighth grade, but I never used a wheel before. Lol. Truthfully, me and my friend used to do perverted crap with out clay. It was fun. Syonara, eighth grade. Lol. I'm starting high school next month! Yay! Okay, enough of my personal life. I hope you enjoyed the story. Unlike my Yuu Yuu Hakusho story _It Was Those Damn Stairs!, _I made the minimum for this story 1,500 words. :)Again, hope you enjoyed and please review! Love you and see you next time! XD_

_-XK_


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary;** _Kurapika is the best student in Leorio's art class. And the teacher couldn't help but feel some sort of attraction to him… LeoPika_

**Disclaimer;** _Everything is of the creation of Yoshihiro Togashi-sama. Everything but the plot of course._

**Note;** _Have you read _Runaway _by __**bigSEED**__? (It's a great story by the way.) But the reason I bring this up is because she stated that some the people who have added this story on their Story Alert list don't even bother to review. So if you love me (and maybe want the next chapter), review a lot on this chapter. XD Please, thank you, and enjoy!_

- - -

**Chapter Three; **_After School Surprise_

Leorio sat on the floor of his living room, his elbow on the coffee table and his hand cradling his chin. His other hand lightly tapped a sketch book that lay on the table.

No, he wasn't thinking of a new drawing. No, the book wasn't even open. And no, the book wasn't even his own sketch book. His was sitting in his suitcase by the door. It was Kurapika's. He had held onto it all day since lunch time, hoping to be able to give it back to the blond boy after school. But it seemed the boy had left quickly after the bell rung.

Sighing, he fingered the corner of the book's front cover.

He wanted to so much look through the pages and admire the pictures. From the looks of the book this morning, the boy was already half way through it. He wanted to see them all, the drawings. He wasn't just satisfied with the pictures Kurapika drew in class.

Leorio was a lover of art. He admired all great pictures and most famous artists were his heroes, his idols.

His hand itched to turn the pages. Now. But, he couldn't. He wanted to, so, so, badly. Wouldn't it be an invasion of privacy?

He sighed again and turned on the television across the room using the remote. Hopefully watching some good, mind-numbing television would get his mind off of the sketches by his favorite student.

- - -

When Kurapika walked in the front door to his home, he didn't even bother to say an, "I'm home." And why was that? Well, the sad truth is that no one was there to tell that he was home to, besides his fish. But it's not like the fish cared.

His parents died four years ago, when he was about twelve or thirteen years old in a car crash on the highway.

He was also in the car crash, but since he was in the backseat, he didn't get it as hard as his parents did. They were on their way to a family member's birthday celebration when they were hit by a criminal running from the police. His parents died almost instantly as the criminal hit the front end, while he was knocked unconscious by the impact and the pain he had felt in his arm and ribs. The police had let out a dispatch for the ambulance quickly.

When the boy had woken up three days after the crash, he was told that he had a few broken ribs alone with his parent's deaths. Legally, he wasn't supposed to live on his own until he was eighteen, so he lived with his aunt and uncle. But seeing as the boy distance himself from them, they asked him if he'd like to live on his own when he entered his second year of high school. He said yes.

So, they let him live in an apartment not too far from them and closer to his high school. They paid the rent, of course. He had insisted that he work for the money to enable him to live in the apartment, but they declined. Not wanting to start a fight with the people who cared for him for two years, he accepted it.

His apartment wasn't really big. It was basically a big square, his living room, dining room, and kitchen squeezed together. The kitchen was divided from the rest of the room an island that turned in a curve for the living room. His fish's bowl sat on top of the island. The dining room wasn't really a dining room, but rather seats lined up along the outer side of the kitchen's island. His living room consisted of a small loveseat couch that pulled out into a bed, a rocking chair, and a small ottoman with a glass panel over it for drinks and the candles and pictures Kurapika put there, a CD rack that was bare of anything except for more pictures, and a television that was rarely used.

There was an attached bedroom and bathroom to complete the living quarters. Kurapika's bedroom was small. It had a small walk-in closet where he put his dresser to save room, his full sized bed, a nightstand and lamp, his desk, and a tiny bookshelf. The room was painted a nice pale blue and his floor was wood. His comforter set was striped navy blue, yellow, and beige. His bookshelf was full of worn-out novels from the second-hand book shop down the street and about few other sketch books he has been filling up since he started middle school. A small candle and a picture of his parents adorned the top of the shelf.

Sighing, Kurapika set his backpack down on the floor by the front door and slipped off his shoes. He went into the kitchen to make a snack. After eating a small sandwich, he began to do his homework. Later, when it was finished, he looked at the time. It was only six forty-five.

He set down his mechanical pencil and went to his backpack. He dug in it to grab his sketch book, but couldn't find it. Where was it?

He began to panic.

Kurapika poured the contents of his backpack onto the floor, but his sketch book wasn't in there. Where was it, where was it, where was it?! That sketch book was his personal item. Instead of a diary, or a journal, he had his sketch book. Instead of writing out his feelings, he drew them in beautiful pictures.

He huffed and ran his hand through his hair. He thought back on what he did that day, clicking "Re-wind" on the remote to his memory. Then it hit him. When he went to the art class room to use the potter's wheel! That's it! Right when he looked at the time, he forgot all about his sketch book and rushed back to class.

But how could he have forgotten it all day? There was so much personal stuff in that book, he hoped no one grabbed it and started looking through it.

- - -

Leorio sat upside down on his couch, staring at the sketch book rather than the television. He stuck out his bottom lip in thought, then chewed on the end of his sunglasses, changed the channel a few times and finally moved to sit up right. It was down right annoying, that sketch book of one of the most talented artists in the school sitting in his living room and he wasn't looking at the drawings.

"Stop mocking me!" he yelled.

The sketch book sat innocently on the coffee table.

"No! I will not look through you!"

Damn, he was going nuts.

After half an hour of muttering to himself and a few times at the quiet sketch book, he gave up and sat back on the floor.

"Okay, one drawing and that's it!" he said and drew a breath.

He turned the front cover and instead of a drawing, there was a pocket. So, it was one of those special ones with pockets to hold extra items, huh? But instead of holding any artistic items like an extra pencil or a small eraser, it held a small three by five inch photo. Curious, Leorio carefully plucked it from the pocket.

In the photo were two young adults that looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties and a small child of about six or seven. The child had blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

_This must be Kurapika as a child. Aw, how cute! _He thought and smiled. The boy looked so happy.

On either side of kid Kurapika was who Leorio guessed to be his parents. The woman was beautiful, with long blond hair brushed behind her ears and chocolate brown eyes. The man had black hair and blue eyes. His father was a bit muscular, so Kurapika obviously got most of his features from his mother except for his eyes and maybe his nose. But he was almost an exact replica of his mother, without the breasts of course.

The background of the picture was green and blue, so they must've been at the park. Kurapika had a half-eaten ice cream cone in his small hand as he was licking the top of it. His father looked amused while his mother was trying to wipe some ice cream off the small boys face. It didn't look like the little Kurapika minded at all.

Slowly, he turned it around. On the back of the photo, written in black ink, was _"R.I.P. Mother and Father. I will remember and love you forever. –Kurapika" _

Just reading that simple line, made tears spring to Leorio's eyes.

Now who would've thought that the beautiful blond, who sat in Leorio's classroom everyday, who looked happy and well okay with life, was living without his parents? Leorio couldn't believe it. Not one bit. But there was even a date at the bottom. It was about four years ago so, Leorio immediately guessed it as their date of death.

He still couldn't believe it.

Leorio completely forgot about the drawings just located on the turn of the pocketed pages and was fully engrossed in the picture and its words.

- - -

_(Final Count; 1,537 words)_

_Please, please review! I'm going to try and write the rest of the forth chapter by the time I leave for my trip to Pennsylvania. If not, I'm gonna drag my writing binder up there and hopefully get to write it. XD So… have high hopes? See you and PLEASE REVIEW!!!_

_-XK_


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